Hell Hath No Fury
by Leon Sage
Summary: Sam is married to Becky, and Dean gets married to his envy.


_You took care of me, and that's great, but I don't need you anymore._

Those words burned in Dean's mind as he pulled away from Becky's apartment car park. Whatever the hell she had done to Sam, he would find out. That much he promised. Everything about this whole thing was whack. The wedding, Becky, Sam, there was just something wrong, but Dean just couldn't put his finger on it. Oh, wait, he could; it was the fact that just a few nights ago, Sam was telling him how much he loved him and how he would never leave. Yup, that was about right.

Dean drove and drove and when he spotted the first bar, he pulled into the parking lot and went in.

Three hours later, the sinking feeling hadn't left him, and he was about three minutes away from pulling out his phone and telling Sam exactly how much he hated him right now. Suddenly his phone rang and he picked it up, slurring a little. "Yello, yuh-…ve reached Dean Win-Winchester." "Dean, ya idjit, pull it together boy," came Bobby's stern voice, causing Dean to sober up a little.

"Y-yeah Bobby," he said, shaking himself a little. He could hear the annoyance bleeding through the phone as Bobby spoke. "Boy, if you're drunk right now, I'll come down there and beat you ten shades of blue." "No, no, I'm fine," Dean lied. Truthfully, he felt even more like crap than before he emptied a bottle of Johnny Walker. "Mhmm, well, it seems that loverboy's newfound interest isn't anything more than some bad mojo," Bobby said and Dean breathed a sigh of silent relief.

Dean was going to kill her. He was string her up by her hair and make her beg for it. No one hurts his Sammy. No one takes Sam away from him, especially some fawning fangirl.

Later that night, he tossed and turned in his bed, but he just couldn't get the image of Sam and her together out of his mind. The wedding, the rings… it made him feel even worse. Earlier that night, he had come back to the motel and spewed his guts up in the toilet bowl. He'd sobered up after that, but he just couldn't shake the feeling of utter loneliness and sadness.

"_I went after her dean, maybe that's what's bugging you_._"_ Sam had told Dean that, right before he said I do. Dean had been too stunned to say anything, to even look at them driving away. He had been too shocked to try to talk to Sam, too shocked to even move after a while. He had stood at the altar for hours after, staring at the closed doors. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know who to call or where to go, so he had gone to the car and sat in there while it rained, staring straight ahead. He didn't know when it started, but he realized after a while that his cheeks were wet and his breath was coming out in short gasps.

Now he lay in bed, mulling it over, going over everything, backwards, forwards, trying to find something that he had missed.

He didn't sleep that night. Or the next night. Or when Garth was there researching. Or when he knew it was nothing more than a crossroads demon.

Dean would have loved to very slowly kill that son of a bitch. Carve him up nice and slowly and show him just how much Dean hated him. But he had let Crowley take him. He had let Crowley take him because he knew that whatever it is Crowley had in store for the red eyed bastard was more than Dean could ever unleash. So he had let go. Of his hatred, of his jealously, for Sam.

Finally, as he watched Sam and Becky signing the annulment, did he know he would sleep that night. He tried to look empathetic for Becky's sake, but for the life of him, he just couldn't wipe that grin off his face.

Even when Garth and Becky started playing eye's, he couldn't get suitably disgusted, and that was something he REALLY didn't need to see.

Later, as Sam and Dean leaned against their blue, piece of crap stolen car, Dean couldn't hide his happiness anymore. he looked over at his brother and smiled so brightly that Sam thought he might actually outshine the Sun. "What?" Sam asked, but Dean looked down and smiled to himself. "Nothing," he said. "So, uh, I don't think Becky was my soulmate," Sam said quietly and Dean gave Sam his signature 'Oh-Really-I-Hadn't-Noticed' looks and looked at the car driving away, "Oh, you mean she WASN'T your soulmate, Sammy?" he said with a smirk, but then Sam took his hand and looked at his brother. "Dean, when I was… y'know… I said some really crappy things, and… I'm sorry."

Dean looked up at Sam and offered a lopsided smile, "Hey, I just got a little jealous, that's all. It… Its stupid to think you need me around all the time anyway," but Sam wouldn't hear any of it. He pulled Dean close and hugged him tightly and Dean slowly wrapped his arms around Sam too.

"I'm sorry," Sam said and Dean closed his eyes and sighed into the hug, "I know, Sammy, I know." Then he leaned back and looked at Sam, into his hazel eyes and said softly, barely a whisper, "They say, when you love someone, you should let them go." And Sam understood why he was said that. "Dean, I told you a long time ago, I'm not going anywhere," he said. "I know, I know," Dean said, smiling up encouragingly, "And no matter how many times you push me away, I'll always stay by your side, Sammy."

Sam smiled and hugged Dean again, "Dean, how romantic," Sam said jokingly and Dean pushed him, but not hard enough at hurt him. "Bitch," Dean said, getting into the car. "Jerk," Sam returned, almost a millisecond later and got into the car.

This was the Sam that Dean knew. His Sam.


End file.
